


Remnant Feelings

by witchdoctor789



Series: Danganronpa Drabbles [3]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Another Episode
Genre: Canon Gay Character, Dangan Ronpa Spoilers, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, kamukoma - Freeform, they're gay, they're gay and i love them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2020-05-14 23:48:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19283695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/witchdoctor789/pseuds/witchdoctor789
Summary: Izuru Kamukura begins to realize that he does, in fact, still have feelings.





	1. Remnant Feelings

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't edited and it never will be. I'm half asleep but it's gay o'clock and the part of my brain that says danganronpa said "kamukoma" instead.

    He thought that he would never be able to have genuine feelings for anyone since Chiaki’s passing. However, during his time in the despair-ridden apocalypse, the young-bodied yet old-minded Izuru Kamukura found himself once again catching feelings for the boy he least expected.

   Nagito Komaeda.

 

   The current servant of the Warriors of Hope, and fellow Remnant of Despair. 

 

    He may be wandering the destroyed landscape of Towa City, but the errands the late Junko Enoshima sent him on didn’t stop his little crush from slipping into his mind every once and awhile. Before, he simply thought that it was the similarities between their jobs that brought the other boy into his thoughts, and denied any other feelings towards him other than their “professional” relationship. It took years before Izuru accepted that he felt something more for the ill-stricken boy playing house with young children. 

    It was not often that Izuru was able to see Nagito around the city, busy with orchestrating the war between the surviving adults of the city and the rampaging children that overthrew it. During his visits to Kurokuma, ensuring things would go according to plan, he would lurk in the shadows, following his love interest around, checking on his well-being before returning to the field. It was unlike him. And he knew it.

    As Junko’s little “war” was coming to an end, he had less and less work to do and more free time to himself. He spent his said free time wandering the city, sometimes sitting by the sole exit from the disaster that was Towa City. The shrine itself was left practically untouched by the despair surrounding it. It was calming, and though he would never show it, Izuru couldn’t deny that he didn’t enjoy what he had helped create.

 

   You could almost say he regretted it.

 

    Thankfully, he was there when Komaeda got into a little scuffle with the great serial killer Genocider Syo. The feeling he got when he witnessed it wasn’t something he had ever experienced before. It was very much unlike him. It  _ wasn’t _ him. It was Hajime. 

 

   Hajime wasn’t supposed to be there anymore.

 

    At this point, Izuru didn’t care. It was the first time that something had surprised him, and he was okay with that. He would allow Hajime to share his input before he would inevitably be forced to leave once again, the surgery acting like a salt circle and Hajime being a lost spirit. Nagito was still sitting on the ground, hiding his obvious pain from the girls in front of him, trying to act like he knew everything. Approaching Nagito would have to wait, despite the screaming from Hajime within Izuru’s brain.

    By the time the girls and one of the children left, Nagito looked like he was about to pass out from blood loss. He had better make this quick before he actually faints. Slowly, Izuru made his way out of the woods behind the shrine, silently walking up to the injured boy. Hajime was still being loud, and it was distracting. It was only when Izuru’s shadow came into Nagito’s eyesight he was noticed. “Kamukura! I knew you’d find me eventually!” He was cheerful, too cheerful for his current situation. Izuru didn’t waste any time picking up the frail boy as if he was a princess, the elevation slowing the bleeding slightly. 

    He walked throughout town, heading to the nearest store, knowing there would have to be different kinds of medical supplies still in stock. His grip tightened on Nagito’s shoulder and thigh as he carried the other through the city. The ominous aura around the two was scary enough for the children in the city to run off and hide, leaving the two alone. “Where have you been, Kamukura? I haven’t seen you in a while,” Komaeda says, with a smile on his face, and trying his best to start a conversation. “Around,” Izuru bluntly replies, though sparing a glance to the boy in his arms, only to see his stupid grinning face and sparkly eyes.

    It took some time before reaching the store, Izuru opening the front door with his foot. He had to step over multiple bodies and knocked over stands to reach the pharmacy. He placed the servant on the counter, going into the back room to retrieve any first aid supplies that might still be there. After shuffling around for a bit, he was at least able to find bandages and needle. With the amount of blood that came off onto his hands, there’s no doubt Nagito would need stitches. 

    Izuru kneeled down in front of the counter, placing everything on the floor before speaking again. “I’m going to have to take off your pants.” Nagito’s face tinged pink before waving his oven mitt-clad hand in the air, waving off the idea. “Don’t bother, I’m sure that you’d like to touch my disgusting body as little as possible.” Izuru moved anyway, intent to stop the boy from bleeding out. Nagito knew that there were no such implications, but still flushed a bright red at the sight of a beacon of hope between his legs.  He had to avert his eyes.

    The white-haired boy winced every time the needle was poked through his skin, though that didn’t stop his face from getting warmer every time. “You’re acting like I shot you again.” Nagito let out a startled noise at the other’s voice, Izuru had been quiet the entire time and shut down any attempt at conversation. “Don’t think I don’t remember.” Nagito almost wished he didn’t remember it himself, oh how embarrassing it was, blushing like a madman when the guy he’s been having sexual fantasies of shot him as though he were an insect. “Ah, I’m sorry you have to see a bug like me-” Izuru intentionally pulled too hard on the stitches, Nagito’s pain-filled groans echoed throughout the pharmacy. “-a bug like me in this state.” Izuru raised his head, red eyes meeting near-lifeless ones. They stared at each other for a moment, only breaking eye contact when Izuru pulled on the thread again, allowing Izuru to add something new to the infinite database of his mind. 

 

   The loudest thing he’s heard so far is Nagito screaming “fuck,” and he can’t say he didn’t like it. 

 

    Izuru turned back to the wounded legs in front of him, deciding that he would rather not cause the weaker man any more pain than he was already in. Bandages in the pharmacy were scarce, only able to make due with a thin layer that Nagito would no doubt bleed through. “Don’t talk about yourself like that.” His voice was quiet, it always was, but even the boy on the counter could hear the tiniest bit of emotion behind his words. The wrap on the boy’s leg was snug, comfortingly so, as if Izuru also decided to show the little emotion he had into his actions, as well. Nagito slid off of the counter, and found himself so dizzy that he found himself falling. 

    The anxiety and fear of hitting the ground forced him to close his eyes, but after a second, he realized that the impact was much softer than he thought it would be. It was the arms that wrapped around him that brought him to the conclusion that he had not hit the ground at all, and instead, found himself buried into Izuru’s chest. It was warm, the type of warmth he hadn’t felt in a long time. 

    After steadying the boy, and finding him something to eat, they finally left the grocery store they had taken refuge in. Izuru’s hand fell to the soft-haired boy’s waist, his excuse being that he didn’t want him to trip over something when he was still suffering from blood loss. That same blood loss did cause Nagito to stumble a bit here and there, leaning into Izuru’s side as they walked, only to have the arm around him to pull him closer. Now, Nagito thinks, that with a few more pushes, he might be able to get as close to the Ultimate Hope as he’s always wanted,  _ and  _ have a few of those sexual fantasies of his come true.


	2. Not So Remnant After All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's gay and they're on a boat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I died for an entire year but I'm back now with chapter 2. Also, I put spaces between paragraphs bc i'm fucking blind and cant see for shit. I write all this shit on google docs so it seems shorter than it actually is. This is a solid 2.5 pages that I wrote in 3 hours.

“ _Do you like boats?"_

The Servant had finally broken the silence. The boat had been sailing for hours, though neither of them spoke during that time. They had not-too-gently handed themselves over to the Future Foundation, and into the hands of Makoto Naegi. Komaeda made it tougher than it had to be, not wanting to give up what he had gained just yet. During the despair, he was given more power over his own life than he had before. 

“I have no opinion,” Kamukura replied, only slightly disgruntled he had been placed in the same room with his hope-obsessed partner. He kept his eyes chained to the floor, refusing to acknowledge the extremely obvious tension in the extremely small room. The heat only made it more uncomfortable. The ocean acted like a mirror, directing the sunlight into the small room, making it more like an oven than a holding cell.

“You can’t pretend like I’m not here forever, Kamukura-kun.”

“What did I say about calling me that?”

“Ah, apologies _Izuru_ ,” Komaeda whined, “but are you really going to pretend like all that never happened?”

“Yes.”

The servant gave an exaggerated look of offense. “So rude! And to think we’re even friends!” Since the incident with Fukawa and the other Naegi, the pair had gotten closer, surprisingly so, though the white-haired man acted more like a dog than a peer to Kamukura. The gashes on the man's thighs only remained as scars, a distant memory pushed away by more recent events. “You know, you’re not as unreadable as you may think.” Komaeda slowly inched his way across the room, leaning on his right hand as his left imply trailed behind him. “We could all see the looks you were giving Nanami back when she was still standing.” He pulled himself beside the shadow-like man, landing rather ungracefully on his side. “We aren’t as dumb as you believe.”

Kamukura’s hand clenched as the heard the other’s words. He had moved on years ago, and there was no reason to bring up the past in world’s current state. Would Komaeda really make him remember it for no reason? Was this an attempt to rile him up? To make him angry? The servant certainly wasn’t stupid enough to face him in such a way, so what was he thinking? Despite his apparent lack of emotions, bringing up the dead in such a way felt crude. 

“Surely you know I’m joking! I couldn’t stand to think of you with another woman after the way you held me!”

Oh. So that was it.

“In fact, I wouldn’t mind it if you held me that way again!”

Kamukura sighed as his arms snaked under the other’s legs and arms, lifting him. “If you wanted attention, you could have asked.” Komaeda landed gently in his lap, arm around his neck and head leaning against his chest. They often found themselves this way after moments of stress, looking to each other for comfort. Kamukura’s fingers trailed along the foreign left hand that remained attached to his lover’s arm. He despised any remnant of her, both physical or psychological. The woman had deeply scarred every one of them,

“It only makes me more disgusting, doesn’t it?” Komaeda broke the comforting silence, “I still feel like I should regret doing it.” Kamukura thought otherwise. He had known something of the like would’ve happened, and he did very little to prevent such a thing from happening, leaving the once pure-hearted man alone the one time he shouldn’t’ve been.

“My actions will never lower your worth to me.” It shouldn’t have affected them as much as it did. Kamukura’s found feelings for the other rarely showed themselves in favor of keeping his cold, calm exterior. His grip tightened on his lover, attempting to bring about a stronger sense to stability and comfort to the other. He gently pressed the servant’s head further into his chest, fingers brushing through the soft cloud that sat atop Nagito’s head.

“ _Happy birthday, Komaeda Nagito_.”


End file.
